


When it snows

by Ace_pergers_Syndrome



Category: The Magnus Archives
Genre: Everything's fine and nobody dies, He gets grounded again very quickly, Jon/Martin, M/M, minor dissociative episode, the magnus archives - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-05 16:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16813930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_pergers_Syndrome/pseuds/Ace_pergers_Syndrome
Summary: Jon helps Martin investigate a case at a park on a snowy day, fluff ensues.





	When it snows

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic written for TangentQueenOfDragons in the "Supernatural stuff isn't real and everyone's fine" AU 
> 
> There is a description of a minor dissociative episode toward the end of the fic.

Martins’ first meeting with Jon had not gone well. And by not well, he meant that he had spilt hot tea all over him. In fairness to Martin, he very rarely dropped tea on people. Bringing people tea was his go to ice breaker, and he was ordinarily pretty good at it. It was just that- well- 

.... Jon was a very pretty man. 

Martin cringed inwardly every time he remembered it. He could have gotten over spilling tea on a coworker, but doing it because he’d gotten all flustered over a distinguished looking man in a suit was just embarrassing. It didn’t help that this interaction had done significant harm to Jon’s view of Martin. He was pretty sure Jon thought that he was some kind of bumbling oaf, and their relationship had been pretty frosty since then. 

It had been, anyway. Lately it felt as though something had shifted; Jon had been less short with him, warmer almost. Martin wasn’t sure what had caused the change, but if trying to work with Jon when he hated him had been disheartening then working with him while he was being friendly was downright distracting. 

Even that wouldn’t normally be a problem, since they didn’t really work closely together much of the time. Most of Jon’s time was spent in the archives, sorting through old statements, while Martin was generally out in the field doing research on said statements. Aside from having to report back to Jon with findings and getting new cases off him, he didn’t really have to spend a lot of the day around him. Under normal circumstances he’d only need to be worried about getting flustered around Jon a two or three times a day.

Which made it all the more confusing that he had somehow ended up on a walk with him through a snowy park.

Not a walk, he corrected himself. He couldn’t think of it like that, for that way madness lay. Jon was just helping him with a case. That is what coworkers do. 

The park was the site of a supposed recent haunting, reported by one Adam T. Harding. Mr Harding claimed to have been attacked by a tree when he was walking through the park at night, and they needed to investigate the tree in question. The park also happened to be a part of Jon’s daily commute to work, and Jon was actually familiar with the tree Mr Harding had been talking about. He had offered to show Martin to the park, and the tree. To save time, Martin reminded himself. He was being helpful. 

Martin spared a glance at Jon out of the corner of his eye. They had hardly spoken a word between them on the way here, and Jon had a contemplative look on his face. 

Jon wore a long, dark coat in the winter, with black scarf and gloves to match. It made him look like a professor, Martin thought. Sensible, warm, distinguished. That was fitting; Jon was very serious about the Magnus Institute as an academic institution. And he had to admit, the look suited him . The tips of his ears were also turning pink from the cold, and Martin thought that he could really do with a hat. His own fingers were getting frosty in his pockets, as he had forgotten his gloves back at the institute. He thought about Jon’s hand warming his, their fingers wrapped together … 

Nope. That train of thought had to stop right there. Martin could feel himself flushing, and prayed that it just looked like he was cold. 

“Ah, here we are.” Jon said suddenly, startling Martin a little. He looked up and saw the tree that Jon was gesturing to. It was a pretty gnarly looking tree; the trunk twisted at odd angles and the branches formed ugly looking knots in places. Considering how well maintained the rest of the park was, Martin was amazed that this tree had been left in this condition. He would have thought it would have been cut down, or pruned or something, 

“Wow. I get why Mr Harding wouldn’t want to run into it in the dark.” 

“Yes, it does cut a rather imposing silhouette I’ll admit.” 

“Why haven’t they cut it down?” 

“I’m not sure. I think it’s got some historical value or some such. Hold on, there’s a plaque by the tree.” 

Jon crouched down by the tree, and took off is glove to wipe snow away from a small plaque near its base. It seemed poorly placed to Martin. Not wanting to feel like he was watching Jon, he turned his attention back to the tree itself. It was certainly an ugly thing. Mr Harding had mentioned having a few drinks before his encounter, though he claimed not enough to make him hallucinate. Still, running into the tree when you’re drunk and alone in the dark could probably set off unnerving nightmares 

On an impulse, Martin crouched down to the floor, and scooped up a fistful of snow. He really didn’t have any reasoning beyond “maybe the tree will retaliate if I hit it.” 

Martin missed the tree. He missed the tree very badly. 

The snowball landed with a heavy thud against Jon’s back, and Martin froze in place trying to process what he’d just done. After the longest momen of Martin’s life Jon turned around to look at him. He looked like he was also processing what had just happened. Martin opened his mouth to try and explain, but nothing came out a long “uhh……”

“Did you just throw a snowball at me?” 

“I- no. I mean, yes but no, I was- uh-” Martin’s sentence cut off as he was hit by more snow. Jon hadn’t taken the time to shape the snow into a ball, just picked up a loose fistful of the stuff and chucked it at Martin. There wasn’t much force behind it, and most of him didn’t hit him. He still sounded absolutely affronted when he next spoke: 

“Did you just throw snow at me?” 

“You threw snow at me first!”

“That was- I was trying to- okay, you know what?” Martin scooped us some more snow by his feet, and apparently this was happening now. Jon managed to block this one with his arm, and gathered more snow as he took off running. Martin took off after him, entirely forgetting what they were supposed to be there for. 

The snowball fight - he had a fucking snowball fight with Jon - probably only lasted about fifteen minutes, though Martin had a hard time keeping track. It might have gone on longer, had he not gotten a call from Sasha. He had taken cover behind a bench, across from a tree that Jon had ducked behind. 

“Hold on.” He called out “Sasha’s calling me. Hello, Martin speaking.” 

“Hi Martin,” Sasha’s voice came through the phone sounding tired. They’d had a lot of work over the Halloween period. “How’s the investigation going?” 

“Uh…” Right, the investigation. That he and Jon were here to conduct. On a potential haunting. “It’s uh- It’s going good. The tree seems normal. Nothing wrong with it, other than it’s pretty ugly.” 

“Okay, so are you heading back then?” Martin looked over his shoulder at the tree behind him. Jon had poked his head out from behind it, He had snow in his hair. His face was flushed from exertion. Martin rarely saw Jon outside of work; he tended to keep to himself. He didn’t remember ever seeing him look so… Lively? Awake? ...Beautiful?

“...yeah. Yeah we’re heading back now.” 

“Good, the backlog of statements here is ridiculous. We could use both of you going through them.”

Martin hung up the phone and stood up. 

“What was that about?” Jon called to him. 

“Sasha was seeing how we were getting on. She said they need our help back at the institute, they’re still going over all the statements from Halloween.” 

“Oh. Yes, of course” Jon emerged fully from behind the tree, brushing snow off is his coat. He looked like a consummate professional once again. Martin’s fingers ached with a cold that he was just beginning to feel. He cupped his hands and blew warm air into them, trying to chase away the chill. 

Jon saw him doing this, and paused in putting his gloves back on. 

“Do you not have any gloves?” 

“No, I do, but I left them back at the institute.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realise. Your fingers must be freezing after- um. Do you want my gloves?” 

“What? Oh, no! No, then you’d be freezing.”

“Right, of course. I just- I- here, just take one of them then.” He pressed one of his gloves into Martin’s hand. The gears in his head were spinning trying to make something of this situation, but when that came up short he awkwardly pulled the glove onto his hand. It was just too small to be comfortable, but not quite uncomfortable either. 

“... Jon I’m not really sure this solves anything. We both have a cold hand now.” 

“Um… Right. Uh-” Jon seemed a little flustered now. Martin could swear he looked redder than before. 

And then Jon held out his hand to Martin. And Martin was pretty sure his heart stopped then. His mind had clearly ground to a halt, because if he’d had even a moment to talk himself out of it he would never have put his hand in Jon’s. 

They spent a full minute in silence, just staring at each other. Jon's cheeks were definitely more flushed than before. He was pretty sure he didn't look any better. Finally Jon cleared his throat. 

“Come- come on. We should get back.” He started walking away, pulling Martin along with him. 

“Yeah” Martin responded breathlessly. He felt as if he had completely disconnected from his body. He was only walking along because Jon was leading. He drew in a lungful of cold air, and tried to ground himself. He could hear snow crunching under his shoes, could feel it give as he stepped on it. The air was sharp and cold against his face. 

Jon’s hand was cold too, skin chilled from handling the snow during their ridiculous snowball fight. His face was still weird, but his eyes were lit up. Martin squeezed his hand without thinking, and Jon squeezed back, giving him a small smile. 

Martin felt warm.


End file.
